Betrayal
by weemcg33
Summary: This takes place after the Avengers movie and Phil is still alive, just badly injured after the incident with Loki. Clint is still adjusting and feeling guilty, but one of the other agents takes matters into his own hands, thinking that Hawkeye deserves punishment for killing his own people. Will Clint survive the punishment and what will the other Avengers do when they find out?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the Avengers.

**Authors Note**: Most of my other stories do revolve more around Clint and Phil, that will still be the case in this story but there will be more of the other Avengers too.

This story will take place after the Avengers movie and as you can probably tell I am keeping Phil around. I cannot believe they killed Phil and I am hoping that it was all some sort of way to make them team up together to Avenge Phil's 'fake' death. This will take place just after Thor has returned to Asgard with Loki and Phil was badly injured…..not dead!

I will rate this as T as there will be swearing and torture in later chapters.

Enjoy!

_Our greatest Glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall_. - Unknown.

Phil felt himself very slowly return to the world of the living, he was lying flat-out on a bed he assumed. He kept his eyes closed for a moment, taking in the sounds all around him. He was pretty sure he didn't want to open his eyes just yet, a niggling voice at the back of his head telling him that would be a bad idea.

His body felt numb, and he was sure he felt the familiar irritation in his hand from an I.V. There were voices just outside, talking softly, obviously not wanting to disturb him. He couldn't make out who it was but he was now one hundred percent positive he was in medical when he heard the beep, beep. He groaned internally, then almost jumped when he heard a soft snore coming from beside his bed.

_Who the hell would be camping out next to his bed_?

Phil tried desperately to remember what happened and how he ended up here, but for the life of him he just couldn't. He did have a pretty wacky dream though, featuring an alien army, Loki, Thor, and the Hulk, finally meeting Captain Rogers and having to go bring Tony Stark in. That was nightmare enough but there was something else, something he was forgetting. Then it hit him like a thunder bolt, _Clint_!

Phil's eyes snapped open, big mistake. "Uhhhh….." Bringing his hand up to cover his eyes from the blinding lights, Phil spat curses and squeezed his eyes shut. The throbbing in his head was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Phil nearly jumped for a second time in the space of a few minutes when a hand was resting on his shoulder and giving him a gentle squeeze.

"It's okay Phil, I turned the lights down." Clint spoke softly, he seemed to know how much pain his handler was in.

Phil very carefully removed his hand and opened his eyes slowly, the room was dark, just a little light creeping through the blinds. He gave Clint a grateful nod and sighed, leaning back against the soft pillows.

"Thanks." Phil whispered, his throat felt scratchy, like he'd swallowed glass. Clint lifted the small cup of ice-chips and slid one into his handler's mouth, he chuckled when Phil gave a small groan of pleasure.

"Contain yourself Phil, its only ice." He smiled and set the cut on the side table and pulled his chair closer to the bed.

Phil glared half-heartedly at his charge, then frowned when he noticed the look on Clint's face, one he hadn't seen from the kid in a long time, _fear_. He took in Clint's dishevelled state in just a glance, the dark circles under his eyes, the clothes that were covered in dirt and blood, and the concern shining in those blue eyes wasn't hard to notice. The archer's hands were clenched into fists and when Phil's eyes drifted to them, Clint quickly unclenched them and rubbed his tingling hands against his trouser legs. Phil always knew his tells, could always spot when the archer was trying to hide something.

"What happened?" Phil asked.

Clint was quiet and Phil was sure he looked ready to bolt for the door any second, but he knew Clint wouldn't abandon him, not when he was in the infirmary. Clint never left his side any of the times Phil had been injured, only left when Phil had told him after countless times to grab a shower and get something to eat. It was a sure way to figure out how bad things were, if Clint wasn't eating it was bad, the kid was a human waste disposal.

It seemed like forever before Clint finally answered. "What do you remember Phil?"

The older agent struggled to focus, to remember what happened. He looked defeated and turned to Clint. "I don't remember, I had a really weird dream while I was out though."

Clint frowned. "What happened in your dream?"

"There was an alien army coming to destroy the earth, led by Loki, Thor's brother. I met Captain Rogers, the Hulk almost took out Natasha, I got asked to bring Stark in after you got taken over by Loki's magic. That's when I knew it was a nightmare, whenever Stark is in my dreams its always bad news." Phil looked up to see Tony peeking his head in the door, Steve was standing behind him looking a little sheepish.

"That's slightly disturbing if you're dreaming about me Phil. I mean I'm flattered and all but I just don't see you that way." Tony chuckled then backed up a step when Clint moved to stand, glaring at the billionaire. He held his hands up in defence. Steve pulled Tony back out of the doorway and stepped into the room. He gave Phil a smile and walked over to the other side of the bed from Clint.

"It's good to see you awake sir." Steve stood almost to attention in front of the injured man. Phil glared at Clint when he tried to stifle a laugh.

Phil smiled at Steve. "There is no need for the 'sir' Captain."

Steve smiled and took Phil's outstretched hand and shook it. "Then there is no need for the 'Captain' Phil. Steve is just fine."

Phil nodded and sank back into the bed, he watched as Clint and Steve shared a look then the Cap gave a small nod and headed for the door. "I will come back and see you later Phil." Steve said before closing the door behind him.

Phil glanced at Clint who was looking almost afraid of having to explain the situation to his handler, his friend. Phil gave him a nod, silently telling him it was alright. Clint sighed deeply and leaned forward in the chair.

"I take it you realise now it wasn't a nightmare, I wish to hell it was Phil." Clint struggled to keep his emotions at bay. "Everything that happened in your dream, is what really happened. I was Loki's puppet, the other Avengers assembled in time to take on the alien army **I** helped Loki bring here." Phil knew his agent would be taking this personally but he needed to remind him that it wasn't his fault, there was nothing he could have done.

"It's not your fault Clint, none of it." He almost growled in frustration when Clint started shaking his head. "Don't you dare? You hear me? What did you think you could have done differently?"

Clint wouldn't meet his handler gaze when he spoke. "I could have fought harder, did something other than let that dick control me like a fucking puppet Phil. You nearly died, do you remember that? Because guess what? I didn't even know, not until after the battle with Loki and the Chitauri." Phil's eyes widened at the words. "I snapped out of it just in time to go off and fight, I didn't know that Loki had stabbed you with that damn septor, I didn't even think about why you weren't there. Only that I wanted to take him out." Clint angrily wiped away the tears that had fallen. "I didn't know Phil, I am so sorry. I should have been here, you have always been there for me and I let you down."

Phil swallowed the lump in his throat, he'd never seen Clint cry before, never in all their years together. He reached out and took Clint's hand and gripped it tightly. "Now Clint, I am only going to say this once, so you will listen, understood?" He knew he needed to get whatever he said through Clint's thick skull. He waited until his charge nodded. "Number one; you have never let me down Clint, I am so proud of you and I wouldn't have wanted you sitting around here waiting for me to wake up when the world was in danger from an alien army. Number two; I know you would have fought with everything you had, there is no doubt in my mind about that, but this was monsters and magic Clint, nothing we were ever prepared for." He frowned when he saw a slight smirk on Clint's face. "Natasha said pretty much the same thing to me."

Phil smiled, he'd thank her later for that. "And finally, I did my job Clint. I know a part of you is probably pissed at me for going up against Loki, but I would do it all over again. You need to stop blaming yourself for everything, a lot of shit happens in this world kid, we just have to do our best to get through it, without taking it all on our shoulders."

Clint nodded at Phil and gave him a small smile, he relaxed back in the chair with a sigh. "Thanks Phil."

"You're welcome, dumbass." Phil smirked at the shocked look he got.

"It's just as well you're injured or I would have hurt you for that." He laughed at the raised eyebrow from his handler.

They settled into a comfortable silence, it wasn't usual for them, it was familiar. Phil cleared his throat and glanced at his young agent. "So how did you break free from Loki's control?"

Clint chuckled and faced Phil. "Natasha hit me really hard in the head."

Phil just stared then burst out laughing. "It's just as well you have a hard head then, she might have broken you."

Clint glared but was glad Phil was laughing, it meant things were going to be okay.

When Phil cleared his throat for a second time Clint arched his eyebrow. "So….do I want to know how bad it is?" Phil gestured to himself.

Clint sat up a little straighter. "Let's just say you have an angel on your shoulder Phil, the blade missed all your major organs, and you ended up losing a lot of blood though and developed an infection. That's probably why you have been out as long as you have."

"How long have I been out?" Phil asked already dreading the answer. "Three days." Clint told him.

Phil's eyes widened. "You've been sitting here for three days?" He almost shouted but his throat protested the abuse. Clint was already standing and calming the older man down.

"No I haven't. I've gone to the toilet a few times." His attempt at humour was apparently unwelcome if the glare he received was anything to go by.

"Clint….." Phil started, his voice quieter but the tone was clear, he was pissed. "You don't have to sit here now, go get some rest, eat some food and for Christ's sake, go shower!" Phil ordered, he almost laughed at Clint's horrified expression. "I don't smell that bad. Do I?"

Phil chuckled and nodded at the younger agent. "I didn't want to say anything but…."

Clint glared but moved to stand. "Fine but I will be back in a bit. Alright?"

Phil nodded in agreement, he knew there was no point trying to argue any further with the archer, he wouldn't win that one. He waited until Clint had left the room and closed the door before closing his eyes, he hated how tired he felt when they pumped his full of drugs. Letting the sounds from the small room wash over him, Phil let himself relax. He found out what happened, had spoken to his agent about not blaming himself and he was alive.

_Yeah, things were definitely looking up_.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers.

Authors Note: Thanks for the reviews; janechen88, sammygirl and lollypops. I glad you enjoyed the first chapter, just to let you know that I have already completed this story and will get the chapters uploaded as quick as.

Thanks for all the follows and favourites!

Enjoy!

Clint stepped out of the shower and was wrapping the towel around his waist as he walked into his bedroom, he almost dropped the towel in shock when he noticed his partner sitting on the edge of his bed. She smirked as he blushed and pulled the towel tighter.

"You know I've seen it all before Clint?" She told him with a seductive smile.

"You wish." He tossed back at her, picking up his fresh t-shirt from the bed and pulling it over his head. Natasha admired the view for a moment before turning to give him some privacy, he pulled on his combat trousers and fastened the button before turning back to face her.

"What's up?" He asked while using the towel to scrub his wet hair, making it stick up.

Natasha smiled at him and stood, she closed the distance between them and could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. "Are you alright?"

He didn't answer, just threw the towel down on the floor and pulled her to him, his arms encircling her and burying his face into her hair. She let him take what comfort he could and wrapped her own arms around his waist. "I will be. Phil gave me a kick up the ass."

"Good." She answered and couldn't help but feel disappointed as he pulled away.

"Good?" He replied sarcastically. "Whose side are you on anyway?"

Natasha laughed at the hurt look on his face and sat down on the bed next to him as he pulled on his boots, when he was finished he moved closer to her so their shoulders were touching. It was similar to how they'd sat after she helped him purge Loki's control. She smiled to herself when he leaned his head against hers and closed his eyes. She knew he would still be blaming himself for everything that happened but now that he'd spoken to Phil she hoped the guilt would be a little less. He was always hard on himself and took responsibility for far too much.

"You heading back to medical?" She asked already knowing the answer. She was shocked when he shook his head. "I'm going to grab something to eat first and then maybe bring him something, I know he hates the food there just as much as I do."

Natasha nodded. "Well you are there enough." She smirked at his glare, it wasn't intimidating at all.

Clint stood and held his hand out to her, it wasn't like she needed help to stand or anything, it was simply a reason to get close. She accepted the hand and gave it a squeeze. "He's going to be alright Clint."

"I know." He told her softly and shocked her by bringing her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of her hand. Natasha would never admit that he caused a shiver to run through her entire body when his lips touched her skin. She cleared her throat and looked down at their hands still joined together

"Thank you Natasha." Clint spoke the words so softly that she thought she had imagined them, then looked into those blue eyes and was lost. He had the most beautiful eyes, she had never commented on them out loud, but when he was angry or happy or on the very rare occasion, scared. She could tell just by looking into those blue orbs.

"You're welcome Clint." She finally got out. He smiled then and she couldn't help but smile back. They headed to the door, Clint opening it and letting Natasha exit first.

"Ladies first." He smiled.

They headed to the cafeteria together, and were welcomed to the far table in the large hall where Bruce, Steve and Tony were already sitting. Clint picked up a tray and filled it with as much food as he could get on it. Natasha shook her head and chuckled at her partners eating habits, Clint gave her a hurt look as he made his way over to the other Avengers, placing his tray down on the table and straddling one of the chairs.

"Got enough on your plate there Clint?" Tony asked while Bruce and Steve looked on in shock.

Clint just smiled and shook his head. "Not really, just ran out of room."

Steve almost sprayed his drink over Bruce who was sitting across from him when he realised Clint was being serious.

Natasha joined them a few minutes later. "Sorry it took me so long, they had to prepare more food once Clint was finished with his selection."

Clint smiled at her and stuck out his tongue, showing off what food he had decided to devour first. She made a disgusted face while Tony started laughing. The others gave him a strange look and had to wait until he'd calmed down enough to explain himself. "I'm sorry, you all think I'm bad, those two make me look like a responsible adult."

This time it was Bruce who almost lost his drink. Tony gave Clint a glare when he started laughing.

"What are you laughing at Robin Hood? I was being serious."

"I know Tony, that's what makes it so funny. I am so much more responsible than you." Clint chuckled, then took another bite of his food.

"Are not."

"Am too."

"Are not!"

"Am too!"

"Are….." They all jumped in their seats when Natasha slammed her fist on the table, they stared at her with wide eyes. "Enough! You are both children! Cut it out."

Steve and Bruce smirked at each other but were also put in their place. "I don't want to see any snickers or stupid faces from any of you. Now eat your food!"

And just like that they all did as they were told, Natasha looked extremely pleased with herself as Clint glared at her. He almost choked on his food when Tony decided to take his life into his own hands and mumble the words. "Yes mum."

His partner's eyes narrowed and he was sure he saw red flash in those emerald eyes, just for a second. Natasha stood quickly and Tony bolted from the room, almost tripping over chairs in his haste to get away. Anyone present in the cafeteria in that moment almost died with laughter. The black widow simply sat back in her chair and started eating again, a wicked smile playing on her lips.

Clint chuckled as both Steve and Bruce kept their heads down and ate their food, they were both terrified that she would hurt them. Clint knew better though and smiled at her, then scooped another fork full of spaghetti into his mouth. He stuck his tongue out after a second or two then took a drink of his soda. Natasha shook her head in amusement, she was just glad he was acting more like himself again.

Everyone started laughing again when Tony's voice came echoing through the halls. "Don't go in there, she'll eat you alive!"

Agent Hill walked into the cafeteria with a confused look on her face, she glanced over at the Avengers and was given innocent looks from each of them. She narrowed her eyes and grabbed her own tray, if she hadn't seen them save the world with her own eyes, Hill was pretty sure she would have them all committed.

* * *

Clint made his way back to medical with the chocolate sponge pudding he managed to snag before Tony got his hands on it, he snickered to himself when he remembered Tony sneaking back into the cafeteria once Natasha had left. Clint had been surprised that the billionaire hadn't gone to get his Iron Man suit before returning just in case the assassin was there and decided to break him.

_Wuss_!

A few of the agents he passed on his way through the long winding halls kept giving him weird looks. He tried to ignore it, knowing they were probably still pissed that he had attacked them while under Loki's influence. Truthfully Clint could torture himself more than anyone else could dream of doing.

He reached Phil's room and stopped just as director Fury exited the room and closed the door behind him. The tall man's gaze focussed on the pudding in the archer's hand before his one good eye bored into Clint's.

The younger agent wasn't sure why he did it, but he found himself hiding the pudding behind his back. As if the director hadn't just seen the evidence.

"It's for me." Clint explained quickly. He wasn't really sure why he was trying to cover it up, it was just a pudding.

Fury simply stood there and glared. Clint swallowed and glanced around, he was sure he was about to be dragged to the cells for some reason, he wasn't entirely sure why though. Maybe it had something to do with shooting the man in the chest.

He almost jumped when the Fury finally spoke. "Barton, report to my office in two hours."

Clint frowned. "Why?"

The archer almost kicked himself for the stupid comment. Fury took a step towards him and Clint forced himself not to move. Even though everything inside him was shouting at him to step back. He'd never been good at following the rules though.

"You'll find out when you report to my office." Then Fury was walking away from him, Clint breathed a sigh of relief, then almost snapped to attention when Fury's voice called out. "Don't be late, Agent Barton."

Clint nodded at his retreating back and opened the door to Phil's room, when he saw the older agent was sleeping he closed the door quietly and moved back to his original spot where he spent the past three days. Placing the pudding on the side table, Clint grabbed the spare blanket and pulled it over himself as he sat in the comfier chair. He set the alarm on his phone so he wouldn't be late for Fury. He really didn't want to piss the man off any more than he already was.

It was only an hour later that Clint was awoken by someone trying to hide a belch. He glanced up and smirked at the 'deer caught in the headlights' look Phil was giving him. Clint's eyes took in the empty pudding cup, licked clean it seemed and gave a chuckle.

"Did you enjoy that?"

Phil looked embarrassed and stared at the small crack on the far wall in fascination. "Was it for me?"

Clint smiled. "Of course it was, I even nabbed it from Tony. So it should have tasted even better."

Phil smiled then. "It was pretty damn good."

"I'll let Tony know." Clint promised.

Clint stood and picked up the empty pot and put it in the trash, he turned back to Phil with his arms folded over his chest.

His handler was immediately on alert. "What's wrong?"

Clint huffed a laugh. "Man I need to get better at hiding things from you Phil. You know me too well."

Phil smiled, he knew it was true. They had been handler and agent for almost five years now, Clint had sailed through his training and was told he would need to have a handler before they sent him out on missions. Phil wasn't sure what to expect when he met the young agent, he'd heard about him and seen a few of his training sessions but otherwise was unaware of what the young man could do. Other than what was on paper? Fury had been the one to partner them, said Phil could rub some of his professionalism onto the younger man. Phil had found himself awed by the archer within the first week. The kid was talented in everything he did, was extremely dedicated in bringing criminals to justice and didn't take shit from anyone. If he thought Phil was being an ass, he would quite happily tell him. And vice versa. Fury had kicked himself within the first year of pairing them as he had wanted to get Phil to rub off on the archer but instead, Clint had rubbed off on the older agent.

Phil was forever grateful for that decision, even if Fury hadn't been ecstatic with the results.

"Fury wants to see me."

Phil sat up a little straighter when he heard the quiver in Clint's normally calm voice. He frowned as the younger man wouldn't meet his eyes. "Clint…"

He was cut off. "What if he fires me? What if he decides he can't trust me anymore Phil?"

Phil wanted to hit Fury right in his good eye, the director was aware of how easily Clint took on the blame. He had to know what effect those words would have on him.

"Clint, calm down alright? He isn't going to fire you, he was in here talking to me earlier, I'm pretty sure he would have mentioned something like that."

Clint walked over and sat back in the chair next to Phil's bed and dropped his head into his hands. "I can't lose this Phil, it's who I am."

Phil nodded and squeezed the younger man's arm. "You won't Clint. I promise."

Clint looked into the eyes of his handler, his friend for the past five years and saw what he had always seen. The truth. Phil never lied to him and always looked out for him, he wasn't sure what he'd do without the older man in his life.

So he did what he always did when Phil told him something. He believed him. Clint nodded and squeezed Phil's hand in thanks.

"Let me know what he says alright? If I have to use a wheelchair to get to his office to kick his ass, I will."

Clint laughed at the image. He knew Phil would do it. "I will." Clint stood and gave Phil a pat on the leg as he headed towards the door. "I'd pay to see that."

"You and everyone else on this base." Phil smirked as Clint closed the door behind him, shooting Phil a grin as he turned and headed towards Fury's office.

Phil frowned once Clint was gone, he didn't know what the director wanted with Clint, but for some reason he had a really bad feeling settling in his stomach.

_Maybe it was the pudding_? Phil glared at the trash can where the empty container sat and shook his head_. Nope, the pudding wouldn't do that_.

He sat in the quiet room and pondered what reason Fury could have to want to see Clint. He had a feeling he'd find out soon enough.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers...I do think of lost of things I could do with them though (evil laugh)

Authors Note: Thanks for the reviews and I promise I will post the chapters as quick as I can.

Enjoy!

Natasha glanced up from reading her book when she felt someone's presence, it wasn't someone she was too familiar with, and she was just hoping it wasn't Tony Stark.

She was surprised to see Bruce standing in the doorway to one of the briefing rooms, it was usually the only place to get some quiet time. She gave him a smile and motioned for him to come in. He looked just as nervous as he did when they first met, Natasha sat up straighter and waited, he obviously had something to say.

As it turned out she didn't have to wait long. Bruce leaned against the chair opposite the assassin and sighed.

"I'm sorry."

Natasha arched an eyebrow at the Doctor. "For what?"

"For hurting you." He stated simply.

"Bruce, I already told you it's alright. It wasn't your fault, just another one of Loki's plans. You don't have to apologise." She told him truthfully. Natasha was used to getting her fair share of injuries, not as much as Clint mind you, but it wasn't something she thought too much about. She and Clint had fought, he'd almost stabbed her with his knife, but she knew he wasn't in control, just as Bruce wasn't in control of the Hulk. Well not as much as he'd like, she assumed.

"Well it would make me feel better if you accepted my apology, even if you think I don't have to give one." Bruce stood and waited for the red-haired assassin to reply, secretly hoping she wasn't going to kill him while he slept for interrupting her reading time.

Natasha smiled and stood, extending her hand to Bruce. "Apology accepted."

Bruce nodded his thanks and turned to leave but stopped at the door. "Thank you for bringing me here Natasha. I know before I was a little annoyed with being dragged out of hiding, but I'm actually quite happy here. That's weird right?"

Natasha shook her head. "Not at all Bruce. We're just happy you're on our side."

Bruce chuckled. "Yeah I suppose so. Goodnight Miss Romanoff."

"Goodnight Doctor Banner."

Natasha sat back down with her book and smiled. She had no problem accepting the mild-mannered Doctor's apology, she just hoped Tony didn't decide to try to apologise to her for earlier, she might actually kill him. She turned the page and grinned, on second thought maybe Tony should come and apologise. Natasha enjoyed putting that look of fear in Stark's eyes, perhaps it was her goal in life, she would certainly enjoy finding out.

The black widow almost growled in frustration as she was disrupted from her book for a second time. This time it was her mobile though. She placed the book down and flipped her phone open. Her eyes widened when she read the message from Clint. Natasha grabbed the book and headed to Clint's quarters. It was late at night so there weren't many agents walking the halls, but any that she did happen to pass almost pressed themselves into the wall as she stormed past. She knew it was most likely because of the gleam in her eyes as she marched down the corridors. Not even stopping to knock on the archer's door, Natasha stormed into the room like a hurricane. Clint spun to face her, his gun aimed for her head. He frowned and dropped his arm as she glared at him, she wasn't even remotely pissed that he just pointed his weapon at her, the assassin was more pissed that he was being sent on a mission without her.

"What the hell Natasha, you trying to give me a heart attack?" Clint grumbled as he continued packing his clothes into the bag.

"Why is Fury sending you on a mission by yourself?" She demanded, her eyes flashing in anger. She wasn't even angry with Clint, she was pissed at Fury but there was no way she was going to go up against that.

Clint frowned and stopped packing, he turned to his partner. "We've not been on many missions together for quite a while Natasha. What's got you so worked up about this one?"

She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "Timing? I don't know Clint. Did he say why it was you? Is he trying to punish you?"

Clint arched his eyebrow at her. "I do think he is still a little pissed that I shot him but no I don't think he's punishing me." Clint zipped the bag closed and tossed it on to the floor before sitting down next to Natasha. "While I was under Loki's control I brought in a few people that are enemies of SHIELD, Fury has just found out that some of the ones that managed to get away before everything went to shit, also managed to get away with some of SHIELD's Intel. I'm going to get it back."

Natasha nodded but still wasn't happy. "Why alone though? Would it not make more sense for someone to go with you?"

Clint sighed and looked down at his clenched fists, he really had to get a handle on that. "I think Fury also wants me out-of-the-way just now, I know some of the agents are still pissed at me for what happened. He didn't say anything about that, but I think it might be part of the reason."

The red-haired assassin stood suddenly, her eyes flashing and her own hands clenched into fists. "I don't give a shit about what the other agents think, you had no control Clint. The quicker they get that through their thick skulls the better."

Clint stood and placed both hands on her shoulders, he was the only one Natasha allowed to get this close, the archer was the only one that seemed to be able to calm the assassin.

"I'll be okay Natasha." He whispered and leaned his forehead against hers.

Natasha sighed and let his calming voice wash over her. She pulled back and stared into those blue eyes. "You better be. Or I will kick your ass."

Clint chuckled and nodded before pulling her back into his arms, it was only in the privacy of one of their rooms that they showed any sort of comfort for each other. They were the two most deadly assassins, they were meant to be feared and respected.

They both pulled back from each other at the same time, Clint bent to retrieve his bag from the floor and then grabbed his bow and quiver. Natasha stood silently watching and when he was ready she opened the door for him and walked him to the hangar.

The pilot was already on board waiting so Clint quickly made his way towards the ramp.

"Does Phil know?"

Clint stopped half way up the ramp and glanced back at her, Natasha could see all of the different emotions play across his face before the mask was back in place. He gave her a nod and disappeared into the jet.

Natasha sighed and waited till the jet had left the hangar and disappeared from view before heading towards the infirmary. Stopping just outside the door Natasha braced herself, Phil Coulson was always calm and controlled in the face of danger, he was one of the mildest mannered men she had ever met. But his one weakness, his kryptonite if you will, was Clint Barton. And right now she was going to tell him that Clint was sent on a mission, without anyone to watch his back.

_And people think the Hulk is scary, they haven't seen anything yet_. Natasha took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

Phil looked up as she entered and immediately went on alert. She wasn't sure how he did that but he always managed to read her.

"What is it?" He asked.

_Maybe she should have sent Tony in to give Phil the message_.

* * *

Nick Fury was not a man to be trifled with, he was tough as nails and took shit from no one, not even the all high and mighty Council. But as of the past twenty minutes he had let his friend scream and shout at him for sending his charge out on his own after everything that had just happened. Nick knew Phil had a point, Barton took everything on his shoulders which was probably the wrong thing for an assassin to do. But for some reason it made the archer one of the best agents he had, or had ever had the pleasure of knowing. Not that he'd ever admit that out loud to anyone but Phil.

His one good eye gazed directly at the man across from him, Phil Coulson was practically shaking in barely contained anger. Fury had known he should have spoken to Phil first but seeing him now, the emotions that were rolling off the man was enough to make Nick realise he had wanted to avoid the confrontation. Phil might be one of the most level-headed agents he had ever worked with but the normally quiet man could be absolutely terrifying when it came to Clint.

Fury seemed to snap out of his thoughts when he realised Phil had stopped shouting, his younger agent was still very pale and should probably still be in the infirmary but he knew that if anything was to drag him out of that bed it would be Barton.

"I'm sorry Phil. I should have told you." Fury was honest in his words, he should have spoken to him. He just knew the reaction he would get in return.

"Are you punishing him Nick?" That got Fury's attention.

"No." He cocked his head to the side. "Why would you say that Phil?"

Phil shifted in the wheelchair. "Clint seemed to think you were pissed that he shot you. I didn't think you held those types of grudges, especially when you know he had no control."

Fury smirked. "He did have some control Phil."

Coulson's eyes widened. "How can you even say that?"

The director sighed and leaned back in his chair. "If Barton had wanted to kill me I'd be dead Phil. He shot me in the chest, knowing I always wear Kevlar. He could have easily shot me in the head."

Phil thought over what he had just been told. Fury was right, if Clint didn't have some measure of control, Fury would be dead. Phil smiled, he had been right. Clint had fought with everything he had, and he couldn't be more proud.

"Now if you're finished shouting at me? Maybe I can get back to watching Clint's back."

Phil's head snapped up at that. "What?"

"I know I sent him there himself Phil, but Barton is the best. He is reporting directly back to me and if anything happens I will have an extraction team there within the hour."

Phil nodded, deflating slightly. He was still pissed Fury hadn't told him, he was Clint's handler after all, injured or not.

"Keep me in the loop director." Phil spoke the words so forcefully that Fury was already nodding in agreement.

Fury stood and walked to the door and held it open for Phil as he manoeuvred the wheel chair out of the door, but not before 'accidentally' running over the director's foot. Nick jumped back with a shout and glared at Phil as he rolled out of the door.

Phil managed to keep his expression blank and almost looked apologetic. "Sorry sir, still getting used to using this thing." Phil turned his back on the director and made his way down the corridor, a cheeky smile on his face.

Fury growled and closed the door, _damn that Barton for rubbing off on his agent_.

He hobbled back to his chair and groaned as he sat down.

_Great now he had two of them, and Tony Stark. They were all going to be the death of him_.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers :(:(:(

Authors Note: This chapter is a little shorter but it's coming up for the whump...so brace yourselves!

Enjoy!

Bruce and Tony were in the base laboratory tossing some ideas back and forth. Tony was thankful there was at least one person that could understand him on this carrier. He was pretty sure Steve was in the training gym, possibly sparring with the red-haired assassin. She probably had to work off some of that tension he had noticed building up in her after finding out Barton had been sent on a mission. Tony had to admit he was a little suspicious of the timing as well, it was just handy that he still had another device checking through all of SHIELD's systems, he really didn't want to be caught off guard again.

SHIELD was after all the biggest covert agency in the world, they lived in a sea of lies. Who knew when they actually told the truth?

He glanced at his hand-held and checked how much time he had left, it flashed telling him just over an hour. Smiling he pocketed the device and turned to Bruce.

"So what are you going to do once we're done here Bruce? Take a vacation? Because you know you are still invited to come back to the tower." Tony hopped onto the stool next to Bruce's lab table. "I was thinking of inviting all the Avengers to stay at the tower, it could be our super hero pad. What do you think?"

Bruce smiled at Tony's almost constant enthusiasm. He'd never met someone with so much energy before. "I think that would be a good idea Tony. It would give us more time to get to know each other."

Tony nodded. "Yeah see that's what I was thinking. We need to bond if we're going to be a team. I will ask everyone once Barton is back from his mission."

Bruce frowned when Tony mentioned the archer. "What?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Do you think it's a little strange, sending Clint out on his own? I know they are trained assassins but he's not long just had his head messed about with by an alien demi god."

Stark smiled and pointed at Bruce. "I knew you and I were going to be a great team Bruce. Something feels off and I'm not sure what it is but I have a feeling our resident spider is feeling it too."

"Feeling what Stark?"

Tony spun around in his seat to face the terrifying Black Widow. She stalked towards him and stopped right in front of him. Tony was almost afraid to breathe but Bruce saved him.

"We have a weird feeling Natasha, about this mission agent Barton has been sent on and we think you feel it too."

Natasha's eyes narrowed at Tony and he almost closed his eyes and prayed she didn't hurt him when she was suddenly stepping back out of his personal space. He breathed a sigh of relief and shot a grateful look at Bruce.

"Clint will be fine." She told them.

"Do you really believe that?" Tony asked.

Natasha shot him a glare and Tony automatically raised his hands.

Bruce caught the assassins gaze. "Maybe we should check it out Natasha, there should be nothing wrong with making sure, right?"

Natasha stood frozen for a moment, maybe they were right. SHIELD was good at hiding things, she knew better than most. And if the bad feeling in her gut was anything to go by she needed to know Clint was alright.

She nodded. "Alright."

Tony smiled at her. "Good, because there is only another hour to go before my device finds out anything else SHIELD has been hiding from us."

Romanoff almost smirked at Tony's constant need for answers, sometimes it got him into trouble and other times it was welcome. This was one of those times, if anything had happened to her partner, there would be hell to pay.

It was fifty minutes later that the four Avengers stormed into Phil's room, their expressions a mixture of worry, fear and anger. Phil was immediately on alert.

Hi gaze settled on Natasha who he thought looked like she was barely keeping it together.

"Natasha?" He asked, worry seeping into his voice.

The assassin could feel her entire body shaking with rage, she was about to respond to the injured man when Fury suddenly barged into the room. He glared at each of them but his gaze focussed on Stark who was looking surprisingly pissed instead of smug. Like he usually was when he hacked SHIELD's systems.

"Get out! All of you!" Fury barked, he wasn't surprised that not one of them budged.

"Why? So you can tell Phil how one of your agents has set Barton up?" Tony stood toe to toe with the director, daring him to deny it.

"Would somebody please tell me what the hell is going on?!" Phil's eyes were blazing as he sat up in the bed, hiding the wince of pain as his stitches pulled.

For some reason everyone chose that moment to be silent. It was Steve who finally broke the silence.

"Phil, it seems one of the agents here gave away classified information about Agent Barton."

Phil glared at the director and Fury had to force himself not to step back. _And people thought he had a look that could kill_.

"What classified information?" The question was quiet but everyone could tell Phil was beyond angry, if Bruce hadn't been standing in the room they would have though Phil was about to Hulk out.

Fury sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "They hacked into Barton's file and found out all his codes, passwords and alias'."

Phil frowned, his mind was still a little sluggish because of the drugs. "What would they want with that?"

"They passed the information on to another assassin. Now they can get into Clint's safe house and he wouldn't be expecting it." Natasha glared at Fury as she explained to Phil. The handlers eyes widened in shock.

"Does he know?" Phil asked, he needed to know Clint was alright, a part of him was already expecting the answer before it left Fury's lips.

"He's missing."

Phil was positive at that moment the ground had opened up and swallowed him whole.


	5. Chapter 5

Clint was rudely awakened with a bucket of freezing cold water thrown over him. He spluttered water from his mouth before lifting his head to face his captor. Every part of his body ached, he wasn't sure how long he'd been secured to the wall but already it felt too long. He felt like Jesus on the cross, his arms spread out at his sides and secured to the brick wall by metal cuffs. His feet were tied tightly together with thick rope which was then secured to the floor by a metal hook.

_Someone was well informed_. Clint smirked.

The archer stared defiantly at the man in front of him, he wasn't afraid to die, hadn't been for a long time, but that didn't mean he wanted to. There were people in his life he hoped to stick around for now, Phil, Natasha and the other Avengers were sure to add to that list. They all had a common bond after all, they were all broken in some form or other, but they still fought. They tried to make the world better.

The man stepped closer to him and simply stared with a satisfied smirk on his lips. Clint wanted nothing more than to wipe it clean off his face.

"You find something amusing Hawkeye?" He asked as he pulled a chair from the corner and sat down in front of the other assassin. It was like he didn't have a care in the world.

Clint took his time glancing around the small cell and smiled at the man. "Nah, I was just thinking you should get a decorator or something, this really isn't going to win you any awards for customer satisfaction." The archer kept the smile on his face even as the man surged to his feet and was in his face within the blink of an eye, the man's hand cutting off his air supply. Clint showed no fear but did try to pull back when he started seeing black spots, there was nowhere for him to move though. The man loosed his grip on his throat only slightly but was still inches from his face, his breath making Clint want to throw up.

"I heard you would be a tough one to break." He almost seemed pleased. "I think we will need to work on your smart ass comments first though, what do you think Hawkeye?" Clint did his best to shrug, seemingly unconcerned. "I am a patient man Hawkeye, I could do this for as long as it takes."

Clint almost snorted when the man said he was patient, he was anything but. Clint kept his expression blank though, he needed to figure out what the hell was going on before he started to wind up his captor. He had noticed the deadly quality to the man's eyes, and knew he wasn't lying about trying to break him and Clint was in no hurry to be broken. The grip on his throat was released and the man took a step back, brushing his hands down his suit jacket and smiled at Clint.

"Enjoy your rest Hawkeye, the next time I visit you will find out exactly how accommodating I am to my _guests_." With that he turned and walked out, the door slamming behind him and a lock being slid into place.

Clint sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. He tested the cuffs holding his wrists but they were mounted into the wall, there was no way to slip a hand free or pick the locks with him in this position. He would either have to wait for the cavalry which he was pretty confident would be coming for him soon, he'd missed his check in with Fury and he knew that would raise alarm bells with the director. Or if the opportunity presented itself he'd take this guy out with extreme pleasure, that option wasn't looking to great at the moment though.

Clint huffed out another sigh and then groaned at the thought of his partner kicking his ass for getting captured, again.

_Natasha was going to be pissed_.

Phil breathed through the pain as he pulled on his trousers, no one dared tell him he wasn't going, the handler had been deadly silent since he was told that Clint was missing. He was a mixture of emotions right now and the main two that were battling it out were, fear for his agent's safety and anger that he'd been captured by another assassin because one of their own agents thought Clint deserved to be punished.

Natasha had left the room not long after finding out what the agents name was, no one stopped her either. Phil found himself not really caring what the black widow had to do to get any information from the traitor. He knew she'd get what they needed.

Steve had stayed close to the injured agent, Phil was glad he was trying to help, he was his hero after all. But Phil just wanted his agent back, needed to know he would be alright. Because if he wasn't, Phil wasn't entirely sure what he would be capable of.

Bruce appeared at the door and Phil nodded at him, telling him without words to come in. Bruce walked into the room and gave Steve a look before turning to Phil.

"They know which assassin has Clint. Fury is assembling a team now."

Phil was already out the door and heading to Fury's office, Steve and Bruce almost jogging to keep up. Steve kept a concerned eye on the still injured agent, he may not be showing the pain, but Steve had no doubt Phil was pulling all his reserves just to keep moving.

They walked into the director's office, Tony was already there typing on his hand held device. He transferred the details he found onto the larger screen in Fury's office.

Tony walked over and pointed to three possible locations. "The information Romanoff got from Agent Sanders, points to these three locations. Meaning we will have to split up."

Phil's eyes met Fury's. "Who is the assassin?" He needed to know.

When Nick didn't meet his eyes, Phil knew it was bad. "Antero Moretti."

Phil paled and found himself being guided towards the nearest chair.

Bruce and Steve shared a concerned look before turning to the director. "Who is he?"

"Bad news, that's all you need to know. We need to get Barton ASAP."

The three Avengers nodded and turned to grab their gear when Natasha appeared at the doorway, she looked somewhat calmer but they all knew she was just hiding it better. She locked eyes with Phil and nodded before turning and heading back towards the hangar, the three men rushing to keep up.

"Do all you super-secret spy's have silent conversations?" Tony asked as they hurried to catch up with the red haired assassin. He wasn't surprised when he was ignored, he was getting used to that with Romanoff, he was just glad she wasn't hurting him.

She spun to face them before entering the hangar. "Two jets will be leaving in the next ten minutes, one will be for those trying to find Clint, the other will be for the medics."

"You seem pretty sure Clint will need medical attention." Natasha narrowed her eyes at Bruce, but all she saw was genuine concern.

Natasha sighed and glanced at the medical personnel stocking the plane with everything they were sure they might need. "Antero Moretti is a sadistic assassin that takes great pleasure in torturing his target before killing them. So yeah, I'm pretty sure Clint will need medical treatment when we get there."

Bruce paled and nodded. Steve squeezed his shoulder, silently telling him it would be alright. He just hoped it would be, especially for the black widow's sake. It seemed Clint Barton brought out exactly the same reaction in both handler and partner. _Determination_. _Fear. Anger_.

Steve turned in time to see Phil making his way towards them, he had a black bag pulled over his shoulder and he could see the sweat forming on the man's forehead. He wouldn't even bother asking Phil if he was sure he was fit to go because he really didn't want that glare aimed at him. So instead he just nodded and moved to grab his own things. Bruce and Tony following.

Natasha took the bag from Phil without a word and they headed towards the jet.

As they sat across from each other and waited for the others to board Natasha reached over and squeezed Phil's hand.

"We'll bring him back Phil." She said the words with such conviction that Phil nodded in agreement.

He just hoped they got there in time.


	6. Chapter 6

Authors Note: More Clint whump...just so you know!

Clint wasn't sure how much time had passed before the man in the suit walked back into the small cell. This time though the man introduced himself as Antero Moretti.

The archer was secretly impressed with himself for not showing any type of reaction to hearing the name. He knew exactly what this man was capable of. Where Clint was sent after someone who was essentially evil and deserved to die for the things they had done, he put them out of their misery quickly, an arrow through the heart or the eye, depending on whatever mood he was in at the time.

Moretti, he went after anyone, as long as the payment was high enough. And he never just put them down quickly, he enjoyed the torture, the pain he could inflict on his target.

_Clint knew now that he was in a shit load of trouble_.

"It must be painful knowing that it was one of your own men that gave me the information about your whereabouts Hawkeye. You must really have pissed some people off."

Clint frowned at Antero. "What are you talking about?"

The assassin chuckled and pulled a dagger from its sheath on his back. It was a serrated blade, one Clint knew was his weapon of choice. He'd seen what this man had done to his victims. He pushed the fear down and glared at him.

"How do you think I found you Hawkeye? One of your own gave me your passcodes and alias' so I could find you." He smiled and held his hand out wide. "I simply walked into your safe house while you were sleeping and knocked you out with a sedative, then brought you here."

Clint almost growled. "Liar!"

Antero shook his head, still smiling and placed the knife on the chair before pulling his jacket off and started rolling up his sleeves. He picked up the wicked looking knife and made his way over to Clint.

The archer eyed the blade in his hand, then focussed his gaze on Moretti. He had the sinking feeling he was going to get well acquainted with the knife held in the assassin's hand. A hand was suddenly gripping his hair and yanking his head back as far as it would go, his neck exposed.

Clint knew he wouldn't kill him right away, but the fear he felt coursing through him had him squeezing his eyes shut. He swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he did. Clint felt the sharp point of the knife pierce the skin just under his chin and trail down to his chest. He froze, keeping himself as still as possible and almost breathed a sigh of relief when the hand gripping his hair let go, and Clint dropped his head forward, trying to keep his breathing under control. He could feel the sting of the cut, it was like a paper cut, not life threatening but was stinging like a bitch and he didn't have to look to know blood had started seeping from the thin cut.

Antero smiled sadistically, he saw the look of fear cross the archers face when he thought he was going to just kill him. _This would be fun_.

He wiped the blood from the tip of the blade on Clint's t-shirt then placed it back in its sheath. He figured it was about time to start tenderising the archer. He was certain he would get the younger assassin to cry out in pain before he was finished.

Clint was caught off guard when Moretti suddenly started pummeling into him, he bit his lip to keep from making any sort of noise. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction. The man's fists were like steel and Clint was sure for just a moment that he was wearing knuckle dusters, but a quick glance at one of his fists before it smashed into his face was just that, a fist.

The archer tried to brace himself before each hit but they came too hard and too fast for him to do much of anything. There was no way for him to defend himself and he glared daggers at the man in front of him even as he took another hit to the face, _the man was a coward_.

In the end all Clint could do was take the beating and hope Moretti didn't break anything, but that really was wishful thinking.

Once he finished, or grown tired, Clint wasn't sure. The man simply left without as much as a word. Clint took stock of his injuries, he could feel the bruises forming all over his chest and face. Antero took great pleasure in hitting the same spots over and over. Between his chest feeling like it was on fire and his ribs hurting, he was sure a couple were either cracked or broken and his face hurt from the few hits it had taken. Blood trailed down from the cut above his eye and all Clint could do was try and blink it away.

Clint hoped that the others were on their way, because he had a really bad feeling he wasn't going to get out of this with just a few bruises. He though back on what Antero had said about another agent giving him up and felt a familiar feeling build up inside him. _Betrayal_. Clint knew they had a right to be pissed, but this? He really hoped Natasha had got her hands on whoever was responsible because if he made it back and saw the person, he wouldn't be able to control himself.

The assassin gave Clint almost an hour's reprieve before entering the small room. This time he brought something in with him and set it on the chair. Clint's eyes narrowed when he got a look at the object. _His bow and arrows_.

This man was dead.

"Fascinating weapon of choice Hawkeye, truly fascinating. How long did it take you to become so skilled with this weapon I wonder?" Antero walked slowly around the room, twirling the arrow-head between his fingers. Clint glared daggers at the man but didn't answer. Moretti came to a stop in front of Clint and without any warning the arrow was buried into his left shoulder, Clint nearly bit right through his lip to stop the cry of pain that wanted to escape his lips.

Antero stared at the arrow in what seemed like awe, he licked his lips in anticipation of what else he could do before yanking the arrow head back out, Clint couldn't stop it this time, he cried out in pain. Moretti smirked and walked away from Clint, giving him space and twirled the now bloody arrow between his fingers.

Clint tried to breathe through the pain emanating from his wounded shoulder, he looked down to see blood already soaking the front of his t-shirt. His tormentor turned back to face him with a gleam in his eye. "Why a bow and arrow? What made that the weapon you wanted to use in our profession? Hmmm?"

Clint arched an eyebrow in question. Was this guy really going back to the conversation he started before burying Clint's own arrow-head into his shoulder? Antero didn't seem like he was expecting an answer and Clint wasn't going to give him one, he was still trying to ignore the pain that was now spreading down his whole arm.

Moretti cocked his head to the side as if thinking about something. "You are probably aware I prefer my knife, it is truly a beautiful weapon." He pulled out the knife to admire it before sliding it back in its place. "Although I think I'm beginning to see why you like using these arrows. They can inflict some serious damage without killing."

"I will say this Hawkeye. It will be a pleasure to be the one that finally takes you out. You've made quite a name for yourself." He stopped once again in front of the bleeding archer and tapped the tip of the arrow against Clint's chest as he spoke. "People will fear my name even more than they fear yours when this is over."

"Keep dreaming you ass hole! You're pathetic! The only way you can beat me is by keeping me locked up and stabbing me with my own arrows, you're a coward Antero. You wouldn't have the balls to go one on one with me." Clint spat blood from his lip into the assassin's eye, knowing he really shouldn't be antagonizing the man, but he couldn't help it, he was pissed.

Antero just laughed. "I know that is what you want Hawkeye, but I'm afraid I cannot allow it. You are a deadly man, from a distance and up close. But you are also just a man…and a man can bleed." He lifted the bow for the first time and aimed the arrow toward the helpless archer.

"Do you fear death Hawkeye?"

Clint refused to answer, just continued to glare at the man holding his beloved bow. He would kill him, he would literally rip the man's arms out of their sockets for touching his things. He almost growled in frustration when he struggled to free his hands, his left arm was on fire and his right wrist was bloody from struggling to free himself.

Moretti aimed the arrow for Clint's head, the archer swallowed down the fear bubbling up inside him, he really didn't want to be turned into a pin cushion with his own arrows.

Antero let the arrow loose, it flew through the air and lodged itself in the wall a few inches from Clint's head. "It's much harder than I thought, I may need to practise a bit." He smirked and pulled the arrow out of the wall.

"How long did it take you Hawkeye? How long before you could hit your target every time? A day…..a week…..month maybe? I bet you were a fast learner." He kept rambling on and Clint was sure the man liked the sound of his own voice.

He answered none the less with smug satisfaction. "Three hours…..and I could hit the target. Every. Single. Time."

Antero looked pissed and loaded the same arrow but this time stood only a few feet from the archer. Clint didn't even have time to prepare before the tip of the arrow was buried deep in his abdomen. Clint shouted in agony as the arrow tore straight though him and imbedded itself in the concrete wall.

"I think I'm beginning to see why you enjoy this so much Hawkeye." Moretti left the bow on the chair and walked out leaving Clint to his agony alone.


	7. Chapter 7

Authors Note: Will Clint be saved in time? Time to find out!

Enjoy!

Clint wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he knew he wasn't doing so well. Moretti hadn't been back since skewering him in the abdomen with his own arrow. It hurt like a bitch and Clint couldn't help but be thankful the madman hadn't ripped that one out or he'd probably be dead already. The wound in his stomach was bleeding sluggishly, the arrow acting as a plug. Then there was the constant pain from his shoulder, he lifted his head slowly to inspect the damage. It was still bleeding, redness surrounding the wound. Antero had taken a large chunk of skin and muscle out of his shoulder when he yanked the arrow out.

Now he was feeling weak and light-headed from the blood loss, his whole body aching.

Clint's head kept dipping forward, he was starting to struggle to stay awake, and the heat from his skin was burning him. The fever was getting worse, he tried to focus on the door but everything was getting blurry.

The archer tensed when he heard footsteps getting closer, he heard the door unlock and lifted his head to see the blurry figure standing in front of him.

He groaned.

Antero smirked at the noise the archer made. "How are you feeling Hawkeye? Not too great I'm guessing?"

"Fuck….you!" Clint spat weakly at his captor.

The assassin walked over to the chair and set the bow on the ground before sitting down. He watched the injured Hawk with a predatory gaze, he knew the man's body wouldn't be able to take much more. Then he watched in amazement as Clint lifted his head to attempt a glare at the man in front of him.

Antero knew no one survived if the Hawk was sent after you, but this time the Hawk had been caught in his trap. The man was the holy grail of contracts.

Knowing that shock was probably setting in with the blood loss, Moretti considered it almost time to put the archer out of his misery. Standing slowly, Antero made his way to the man other assassins could only dream of having in their grasp. He stood in front of Clint and grabbed his jaw forcefully, lifting his head so they were eye to eye. Clint's blue eyes were filled with nothing but hate, Antero slammed Clint's head against the concrete wall and chuckled when the archer paled and fought the urge to throw up.

"Maybe I should just kill you now Hawkeye. Put you out of your misery?" He taunted.

Clint's eyes widened as Antero's hand shifted from his jaw to his neck and started squeezing. The archer struggled weakly, he could feel the panic building up as black spots filled his vision. He tried to twist away but the man's grip was like a vice, he could feel the darkness creeping up on him.

Then just as he thought that was it, that he was a goner. The hand around his neck disappeared but the darkness had already moved in and claimed him. He didn't respond to the voice demanding he stay awake, that he keep his eyes open, or the gentle hands that framed his face and helped him stay upright as the metal cuffs were removed and the rope cut from his ankles. It was only when they tried to move him away from the wall that he was brought back to consciousness with a cry of agony. They hadn't realised that the arrow was buried into the concrete behind him.

"Shit." Came a man's voice.

Clint choked back another cry of pain and spit up blood onto the dirty floor of his cell. There were voices around him, talking to him, but he couldn't make them out. The pain was too much and the pull of the blackness was powerful. He finally passed out when they started cutting through the arrow from where it was lodged in the wall.

Natasha glanced at Phil when she felt her partner pass out. She kept her face blank but Phil saw the fear in her green eyes, they mirrored his own. Clint hadn't responded to either of them and as far as he could tell Clint wasn't even aware it was them. It took almost another five minutes before they had managed to cut through the superior material the arrows were made of. Gently they lowered the injured archer onto the ground, Phil had already placed his jacket on the floor so he wouldn't be lying on the dirty floor.

"Clint? Clint….can you hear me?" Natasha ran her hands expertly over her partner's body, checking for any other injuries and quickly cutting through the thin material of his t-shirt. She stifled a gasp and Phil cursed when they saw the state of their friend. Dark bruises covered most of his left side and chest, she was careful to avoid the arrow still protruding from his abdomen, which looked like it had started bleeding again. Phil kneeled on his other side after calling for the medical teams to their position, they rolled Clint carefully onto his side, mindful of the shoulder injury. Natasha cursed in Russian when she got a look at his back, the lower half where the arrow had been cut was covered in blood. She knew he couldn't afford to lose any more of the precious substance.

"We need to get him back to SHIELD as quickly as possible Phil. He's lost too much blood already and I don't want to risk him losing more by taking the arrow out." Natasha was almost robotic in her assessment, but Phil saw the tremors in her hands as she checked for any other wounds.

Phil nodded in agreement and was ready to call the medics again when he heard voices nearing them. He made his way to the door and ushered them inside, they immediately got to work on trying to stabilise the archer. Natasha never moved from her spot at Clint's head, running her fingers through his short hair and willed her strength into him. She didn't even bother trying to stop the tears from falling. It was only when she felt a hand squeeze her shoulder that she realised they were ready to move him, Natasha took the hand Phil offered and stood silently watching as her partner was carried out on a stretcher.

Natasha glanced at the body of Moretti and wished she'd kept him alive for a while longer for hurting her Hawk, she would have shown him what real pain felt like.

Phil pulled her into a comforting hug and was surprised when she hugged him back.

"He'll make it Natasha. He's too stubborn not to."

"I know." She pulled back from the handler feeling only slightly embarrassed. "He knows I will kick his ass if he even thinks about giving up."

Phil nodded and together they followed the medics back to the jet.

Steve, Bruce and Tony were already there waiting. All of them filled with concern for their teammate. Tony's eyes widened when he noticed that Natasha had been crying, he wisely kept his mouth shut though.

They boarded the jet quickly, Natasha taking the seat next to Phil and not caring that the others were sitting watching her, she squeezed Phil's hand and almost smiled when he squeezed back.

_They'd got him back, now he just had to keep fighting_.


	8. Chapter 8

Authors Note: WOOPWOOP! Clint has been saved...yeah!

This is the last chapter I'm afraid...I really hope you all enjoyed this story and I'm currently working on my next. ;)

Hope you like!

**Two days Later**

Natasha sat at her partners side, book in hand and kept flicking her eyes up to watch his face. He'd woken a couple of times but was still pretty out of it because of the amount of pain medication. She knew he hated the way it made him feel but right now the doctor's only concern was keeping the pain to a minimum.

She noticed movement beneath his eyelids and knew he was dreaming, leaning forward she squeezed his hand, just to let him know she was here. Phil had been in and out of the room the last two days, where Clint could sit at his bed side for days and not move, Phil was the opposite, he couldn't sit still, always had to be doing something to keep himself busy.

Until his charge was awake that is. Then you couldn't get rid of him.

Natasha sighed and closed her book, placing it on the side table and almost jumped when she looked up to see blue eyes watching her.

"Hey." She was immediately at his side, taking his hand in hers and squeezing gently.

"Hey…." He whispered, his throat still hurt from being strangled.

Natasha popped an ice chip into his mouth and smiled when he groaned in pleasure.

"I thought it was just me that did that when given ice chips." Clint gave his handler a tired smile and watched as he made his way to the other chair.

"You had us worried." Natasha admitted.

Clint nodded and gave her hand still holding his a slight squeeze. "I'm…..sorry."

Then his partner surprised him and herself when she leaned in and kissed him. "Just don't do it again." She ordered.

Phil had chosen to look away, giving them a hint of privacy. Clint turned to him and offered an apology, but the older agent just shook his head. "You don't have to apologise Clint. This wasn't your fault."

"Seems like…..that's all I….hear these...days." Clint lifted his right hand to his aching throat, it felt badly bruised.

Phil smiled. "That's because it's true." Clint nodded but still didn't look convinced.

"You have some visitors if you're feeling up to it." Clint frowned and looked towards the door. He was surprised to see Tony, Steve and Bruce all waiting patiently outside. He managed a small smile and motioned for them to come in.

"I have the strangest feeling that this happens quite a lot with you." Tony joked at the archer but Clint saw the genuine concern in the man's eyes.

Steve and Bruce stood at the foot of the bed, Bruce in full doctor mode, his eyes taking in the various wounds now covered by thick white bandages.

Steve gave him a soft pat on the leg and smiled at the young agent. "It's good to see you awake Barton."

Clint smirked at him. "What no 'sir'?"

Steve looked confused for a moment before remembering the first words he'd said to Phil when he had woken up. _Had that really only been less than four days ago_?

"Actually I think it would be you that addresses me as 'sir'." Steve smiled.

Phil scoffed. "You'll be lucky Captain, I don't even get a 'sir'."

Clint glared at his handler and then frowned as he thought about it. "I do sometimes." He mumbled.

The others laughed and made themselves comfortable, they stayed for another hour before Phil noticed his agent was struggling to keep his eyes open, he stood and motioned for them to do the same, then pointed towards the sleeping man. Making their way out of the room the team sighed in relief. Their teammate was safe at last, and if anyone else tried to so much as glance at the archer the wrong way, they'd have the Avengers to deal with.

Tony and Bruce made their way to their temporary quarters while Steve headed back to the gym. Phil gave Natasha a nod and headed to speak with the director about all of them moving to Stark's tower, Tony had mentioned it while talking to Clint and Phil had been shocked that the archer had agreed so quickly. He was pretty sure it had something to do with another SHIELD agent betraying him, setting him up and almost taking him away from his family. He'd be pretty pissed too, hell he was pissed. Clint was his family after all.

Natasha stayed in the room with Clint, sitting back down on the chair she had been in previously, she picked up her book and continued reading. Her eyes still flickered to his face every now and then, just to make sure he wasn't in any pain. She felt like she could finally breath now, he was safe, his torturer was dead and Agent Sanders was locked up and would be for a long time.

At first she had been infuriated with Fury, thinking the man was getting the easy option, but the director had informed her she was being given authorisation for the occasional visit. She had smartly kept her mouth shut after that and given Fury a smile that had given him a shiver down his spine.

No one messed with her Hawk and lived to tell the tale.

The Black Widow enjoyed educating anyone who thought otherwise.

* * *

Clint adjusted the shoulder strap keeping his injured shoulder immobile and pulled his hoodie tighter around him. It was cold outside tonight and the sounds from the city drifted up to him, reminding him that the world kept turning.

He and Natasha had now officially moved into the Avengers Tower, Tony had asked him when he was fit enough to leave SHIELD, he was more than welcome to move in. Clint had checked himself out of medical the next day.

Phil nor Bruce had been too happy with his decision as he was still in need of medical care, Clint had simply gave Bruce his best puppy dog eyes and told him he was more than happy to let Bruce be his Doctor and would do whatever he asked, as long as he was allowed to leave the base. They had both begrudgingly agreed, knowing that the archer would take it easier and be in a more relaxed environment at the Tower.

Natasha wasn't too happy either but she knew what her partner was like and knew she would be able to keep a close eye on him.

Tony and Steve both felt relieved, they would rather keep tabs on their team mate under Tony's roof than at SHIELD, there were too many prying eyes, and even Fury admitted that there were a few other agents that were still angry with Barton.

Fury and Phil were working on that problem discretely.

Clint didn't bother turning when he heard the side door to the roof open, didn't even turn when the person stopped just beside him and looked out over the city. He did smile though, "Are you moving in too Phil?"

His handler chuckled and gave him a side glance. "No. But I have been offered a room if I change my mind."

Clint arched an eyebrow at his friend when he noticed he was wearing jeans and a shirt. It was weird seeing Phil in normal clothes, the man practically lived in a suit.

Well so Clint thought.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Phil turned to face his charge.

Clint looked down at the city below before turning to Phil. "Why don't you move in?"

Phil smiled. "I might, just not right now. There is still too much to sort out at SHIELD. Once that's done Fury will probably assign me here as handler."

Clint frowned in confusion. "You are my handler Phil. Did you hit your head and didn't tell me?"

His handler laughed. "No, I didn't hit my head. I mean I will be assigned as handler to the Avengers. To keep an eye on all of you."

It was Clint's turn to laugh. "Jeez Phil, you got the short end of the stick there, didn't you."

"I would never consider looking out for you the short end of the stick Clint. Or any of the others." Phil's quiet words had Clint pushing back the surge of emotion that followed.

"Thanks Phil."

Phil glanced over at his young agent. ""For what?"

"For being you, for always looking out for me, and giving me the kick up the ass when I need it." He swallowed when he felt Phil's hand squeeze his uninjured shoulder. "For being my friend and not just my handler."

"Always Clint."

Clint smiled and looked over the city, as long as his friends were behind him, he had the feeling he could do anything.

Now he just had to prove it.

The End!

* * *

I just wanted to thank everyone that has reviewed and added this story to your alerts, and although this has been completed I do plan on doing the odd one shot story off of this one, and perhaps a couple of my other stories that people don't want me to end :)

So thank you, and keep your eyes peeled for more.

weemcg


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